


Pretty Lies, Ugly Truths

by JazzRaft



Series: Dark at Night [37]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Heavy Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-14
Updated: 2017-03-14
Packaged: 2018-10-05 06:05:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,504
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10299266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JazzRaft/pseuds/JazzRaft
Summary: Noctis is prepared to accept the inevitability of his death. He is not prepared for the inevitability of Nyx finding out.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on [tumblr](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/157046198102/31-for-nyxnoct-just-turn-up-the-sad-bro) for #31 in [this prompt post.](http://jazzraft.tumblr.com/post/156511645930/send-me-a-pairing-and-a-number-and-ill-write-you)

“You lied to me!”

The accusation fired like a shot around the campfire. In the silence that followed it, Gladiolus, Ignis, and Prompto all slinked further away. Prompto flicked a guilty glance towards Noctis as he passed, before leaving him to Nyx’s wrath.

Even next to the warmth of the fire, the air felt cold between them. Every time Noctis tried to be brave and meet his eye, he couldn’t. He had just barely enough courage to tell the others, but to tell _Nyx_? He was being a coward and they both knew it.

“When this was all over, you said,” Nyx hissed into the firelight. “When this is all over, and the light comes back, we’ll be together, just like we always were. _You_ said that. You looked me right in the eye and you _lied_ to me.”

Each word was like a needle driving beneath Noctis’s skin. Nyx’s voice was rough, almost bestial with anger; nothing at all like the gentle rasp he’d kept with him inside the Crystal. Not like the deep sigh and sweetly worded sound that had been sobbed against his throat after so many years.

“I had to hear it from _Prompto_ ,” Nyx went on when Noctis couldn’t find any words to say. “You could tell all of them, but you couldn’t tell _me_? You were just gonna let me stand there and _watch_ while you died?”

“I knew that the others wouldn’t try and stop me if I told them,” Noctis said, his voice lost beneath the pop and crackle of the fire.

“I’m not sorry that I refuse to enable your suicide.”

Noctis tried to be as angry as he was, tried to glare at him for mocking his fate, but every time he tried to raise his gaze, it still kept failing. Why couldn’t he be brave for just this one more thing? He had enough courage to die, but not enough to say goodbye to Nyx?

“Ten. Years. Noctis,” Nyx seethed. “After all that, you can only give me _one day_?”

“One more day in the dark is one day too long. What else do you expect me to do?”

“I expect you to at least _try_. The rest of us have _survived_ for the past ten years. Why aren’t you trying to survive _this_?”

“There’s no other way…”

“Yeah? Who told you that, huh?”

Noctis stared down at his feet, arms clasped over his chest, but unable to protect himself from Nyx. He hadn’t told him because he’d been afraid of him… Afraid that he’d say everything that would convince Noctis not to make the sacrifice. Afraid that Nyx would cost them all the Light just to spare one life.

He was such a hypocrite. He was happy enough to lay down his own life if it meant protecting the people he cared about. Why couldn’t he respect that Noctis was making the same choice?

“You should go back to Hammerhead,” he whispered, already flinching from how furious he knew the suggestion would make Nyx.

“Still think you can order me around just because you’re King? It was a joke then and it’s a joke now, Noctis.”

“This is the _world_ we’re talking about!” Noctis finally snapped. “This is my home, our home. So many people have died to keep it in the light. How can you expect me to dishonor the sacrifices they made by not fulfilling the prophecy?”

“Death only begets more death. You die and the world gets its light back, but what does it do after that? It has no king to lead it.”

“The world doesn’t need a king…”

“ _I_ need a king!”

With his gaze downcast, Noctis hadn’t seen Nyx come so close. Close enough to grip his arms and shake him so hard his neck creaked under the sway of his head.

“I don’t care about the world, I care about _you_. You’re _it_ for me, Noctis! After Insomnia, there’s been nothing else. I’d rather live in the dark with you than in the light without you.”

“I doubt everyone else feels the same.”

“I told you, I don’t _care_ about everyone else…”

“Now you’re the one who’s lying.”

Finally, Noctis found the courage to look him in the eye. Ten years had hardened them, made them more of a steely gray than soft blue. Yet, they were still just as turbulent and impassioned as when Noctis had fallen in love with them. Committed to being the protector, his knight, and just committed to _him_. Not because he was his king, but because he loved him, saw him for more than just his title. He’d spent all his life protecting Noctis, and now, at the front of the one moment where Noctis could return that devotion, show him how much he loved him by returning him to a world full of light, Nyx couldn’t understand him?

“You can’t tell me you wouldn’t do the same thing,” he murmured.

Nyx’s glare faltered, and for a second, Noctis thought he might have convinced him to let him go. But then his eyes fell on the ring that had doomed his prince, and they steeled over against just as quickly as they weakened.

“Fine, then let me do it.”

Noctis pushed him away, hard. Enough that he stumbled a step. Now he was as angry as Nyx was. He was being deliberately ignorant to the truth. He was insulting Noctis by refusing to acknowledge that his want to protect was the same as his. And he was hurting him by insinuating that his life was worth _less_ than Noctis’s own.

“What do you not get about this?” Noctis yelled at him. “It has to be _me_ , and I _want_ to do it. If it means saving everyone from this darkness, protecting people from the daemons…”

“You’d let me do it, ‘cause that’s _my_ job, not yours.”

“The people of this kingdom are _my_ duty.”

“And you’re _mine_.”

This was getting nowhere. And it was going nowhere. Noctis had resolved to die and Nyx had resolved that he would live. There was no compromise to be made. Fine. If he wouldn’t concede, then Noctis would make him. Taking a breath that did nothing to steady his words, he tried to remember what his father had sounded like, sitting atop his throne.

“As your King, I command you to return to Hammerhead, and let us depart in peace.”

He couldn’t read Nyx’s expression. He never really could. He tried to mime that stalwart stare, tried not to let him see how much it was hurting to treat him like he was beneath him. Nyx didn’t say anything for a long time, long enough that Noctis thought there was nothing else to say. His throat felt so tight that he didn’t even think he could say anything else if he wanted to. He had never wanted for this to be how he said goodbye to him. Not him.

Noctis ducked his head and tried to walk away, dismissing himself if Nyx refused to be dismissed. Nyx’s hand dug into his arm again, and pulled him back, painfully. When he kissed him it was bruising, despairing, frenzied. It _hurt,_ not because it was so thoughtless and harsh, but because it was _breaking_ Noctis. It was splintering through his will, threatening to make it shatter. He hadn’t said goodbye to him because he knew that he would do this. That he would make him remember what made him selfless and selfish at the same time. That he would die for Nyx, but he wanted to live for him to.

Noctis slapped and shoved at Nyx’s chest, batted at the arms chained around him until he could escape enough to scream at him. “You can’t do that!” He braced an arm between them and lowered his head so that Nyx wouldn’t see the tears he was fighting so hard to keep back. “You can’t kiss me like that! If you kiss me like that, I won’t go. If you kiss me like that, I… I can’t…”

He couldn’t fail his friends. He couldn’t leave them in the dark. All he wanted was to protect everyone that had ever protected him. All he wanted was to be a king worthy of their sacrifice. But he wanted this, too. He wanted to remember that he’d never asked to be King. He’d never wanted a throne, never wanted to be in a position where he had to feel worthy of anyone.

But this was who he was born to be. He couldn’t change it. Nyx couldn’t change it. No matter how he threaded his fingers through his hair and pulled his face to his chest. No matter how he turned his fingers on the back of his head in the way only he knew how to do. No matter how he leaned his lips down and whispered that he loved him, called him his “little king.”

He had to do this.

But, now, he had no idea how.


End file.
